


What We Make Anew

by Skyepilot



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Horror Tropes, Is being Director a good idea?, Mysteries, Phil being Phil, Skye being Skye
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-17
Updated: 2014-05-17
Packaged: 2018-01-25 10:16:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1645100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skyepilot/pseuds/Skyepilot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Season 2 drabblefic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What We Make Anew

The sound of the popcorn crunch was driving Koenig crazy. He'd tried to ignore it, after all, he'd seen The Last Man on Earth probably 200 times. But Director Coulson had never seen it, and the Director had agreed to his proposal of a movie night here at the Playground. 

He had, however, subsequently turned down his offer to play Call Of Duty. But, Koenig hoped there was a little squeeze room to change his mind on that one as well.

He could tell that the Director did not want a movie night when he had offered his proposal. The Director had been busy making lists and doing very routine things, the kind of things that everyone else should handle. That's what Koenig would've done if he were Director.

However, Skye had made a face at him, and Simmons had hopped up and down and so the Director had just sighed and agreed.

How could you hear anything over that chewing rancor? He also had been made to give them lanyards just because the Director had personally authorized it. 

Koenig had so been looking forward to grilling them in that chair.

Oh, this was great! Just great! The big finale. 

"Dude must have developed a strange sense of humor being on his own for so long," Trip whispered to Simmons. 

Simmons replied very pointedly, "More like gallows humor." She stuffed another hand of popcorn into her mouth. Trip just watched her, amused. "What?" she asked.

May stood up. "They all die, the end." 

Koenig put his finger over his mouth and she rolled her eyes and left the room.

Koenig shrugged his shoulders. You can't win over everyone.

Coulson was staring at the screen, his mouth hanging open. Skye was chomping on popcorn, head cocked slightly.

"They're going to kill him?" she finally exclaimed. "Idiots. This movie is terrible!" she said with a mouthful of popcorn, turned to Koenig, who tried to shush her. "Next time, I pick."

Coulson watched Vincent Price's character call the mob "freaks." They impaled him. He said he was the "last true man on earth."

"A.C., you okay?" Skye asked, leaning over to look at him.

He swallowed, blinked and looked over at her slowly, "Skye?" he asked blankly.

Skye kept her eyes on him but turned when Koenig asked:

"So. *What* did you all think?"

"I think, it's time for me to check on Fitz," Simmons said politely, excusing herself.

Skye smiled over sympathetically at Trip.

"I think," Trip chuckled, stood up, "We need to steer you clear of post-apocalyptic subjects. More Candy Crush," he said, clapping his hand on Koenig's shoulder, "Less Call of Duty."

"That game is for girls," said Koenig. "And Saturday mornings, only."

Skye laughed, but her mind was still on Coulson. Who was still just sitting there, strangely silent.

"Sir?" Koenig asked.

Coulson got up from his seat and walked away.

 

***

This wasn't the first time this had happened. He had these little moments of checking out ever since, when? She started to ask herself. He'd obviously been through a lot, they all had. She'd learned about TAHITI. Yeah, that had sucked. That had really sucked. But Coulson still seemed like Coulson.

It was after Fury. After he had talked with Fury. She was sure of it. He'd been fine up until then. What had Fury said to him? Other than dumping SHIELD on his lap?

He had looked at her like he was somewhere else, like he'd just woken up. And he seemed tired all the time, but focused. No time for talking, no time to catch up since everything had gone down. On his own mission.

She was going to figure it out. She couldn't stand the not knowing. It's part of what had made her so valuable to the Rising Tide, if not a little obsessive *and* sometimes domineering in conversations about conspiracy theories, but, nonetheless. This was a new mystery to unravel.

Start with observation. Note all of the things in his behavior that seem different.

Should she get Simmons on board with this?

No. Wait until she had something more concrete.

 

***

JOURNAL

Friday, 2:09 AM  
Can't sleep, went for a walk. Run into A.C. in the hallway. The perfect opportunity. I ask him what day it is. He looks at me funny. Continues on his way.

Saturday, 10:01 AM  
A.C. is in the storage room. I ask him why he likes taking inventory so much. He asks me why I like asking so many questions. Dismissive and also - JERK!

Saturday, 7:45 PM  
I hunt down Coulson. He's in the storage room. Tell him we're all going to eat together. He shows up 30 minutes later. Doesn't talk much. But, in the storage room. Again!

Saturday, 2:15 AM  
Know exactly where he is. And when I get there, it's like he's waiting. I ask him if he's keeping a secret. He smiles, and it doesn't really look like him, and he says we all keep secrets. WTF!

Sunday, 9:20 AM  
Ask Coulson if he slept well. He says no, like in a *you should know* kind of way. It makes me feel a bit better.

Sunday, 2:09 AM  
Went to Koenig's office and checked his lanyard tracker. Coulson is in the storage room. Near the back wall. Just standing there staring. For 10 minutes straight. I'm creeped out.

 

***

"Hey, A.C." 

She said it extra bubbly, so he'd have to acknowledge her.

"So, when do we get new recruits?"

"I put May on profiling and Trip on collection."

"Nice," she replied.

They were in his new office. It was weird, 'cause it kind of looked just like his old office. Which, she liked. Made her feel at ease.

"And you," he said, looking up at her. "You get to be the 'Welcome Wagon," he said with a thin smile, looking back at his holodesk.

Skye beamed. He'd remembered. Of course he had. She'd been so silly, he's just busy, he's concentrated on what's ahead of them. He...

"Wow, that's...Did you like that movie from the other night?"

His face dropped.

"The one about the last true man on earth?" 

He just stared back at her.

Okay, this was not cool. She took a step backwards.

"A.C.?" she asked.

"Director," he said to her coldly. "You can show yourself out."

 

***

Evidence. What evidence? It was just gut instinct. He wasn't acting like himself. He was acting like something, inhuman... That stupid movie, it had putvall of these ideas in her head! Maybe it had sent subliminal signals? Who was she going to tell about this? Koenig would put her on lockdown, "Director Loyalty Setting ON," Simmons would probably tell her to calm down. Trip would just indulge her and May would tell her she was crazy. Just like she had told Coulson *he* was crazy.

Her mind was made up. She had waited two nights. Kept her distance. She loaded the Nite Nite gun and slid it into the back of her jeans. Checked her watch. 2:11 AM. She knew where he would be. She was going to the back of that room. And he was going to answer some questions.

Reaching the storage room door, she cracked it open, slowly. Slid in and walked very slowly, using the shelves as cover. 

At the back of the room, he was standing, in his pajamas. Coulson in a t-shirt, not too bad, he should show off his arms more. Okay, table that! (For later.) Her heart was beating in her chest, he was writing stuff on the wall. He had written stuff all over the wall. It looked like the writing they'd seen in Amador's eye feed, like the writing Garrett had scribbled on the lab door from the Bus. She knew, because she always studied the junk. The little bits that people had thrown away. Like how nobody else in this damn base thought Coulson was acting strange. 

Oh no. What if they were all infected with something? What if he was controlling them all? Was he crazy, like Garrett? Was it HYDRA? She went to grab the gun from her jeans and it was stuck, she had to turn to get it loose. When she looked back...

Coulson wasn't there.

Everything in her screamed. Run.

But, what about her training?

"Skye?"

RUN!

Skye pushed him and began running for the door, hearing him get up off the ground and start to pursue.

Almost to the door. She turned and pointed her gun at him, turned the handle behind her.

"Don't make me do it," she said.

He had his hands up.

"I can explain," he said. It was soft. It sounded like him.

She shook her head.

"Please," he said, eyes pleading with her.

She nodded back to him.

"Well, not really," he said, grimacing. "Hey, hey!" he said holding his hand out in front as her finger itched the trigger. "The truth is, I don't really know what's going on."

"You're not going to try to bite my face off or impale me?"

"No," he said slowly, as though she were the silliest person on Earth.

"Are you keeping a secret from me, Coulson?" she raised her voice at the end.

"Is it a secret if you don't know what the secret is?" he said exasperated.

"There is something wrong with you. You've been acting strange."

"I know."

 

***

"No, I don't want a hot cocoa, what's wrong with you?" she said, taking the mug from his hand and pouring whiskey from the shelf behind his desk into it.

"Why didn't you just ask me?" he said with controlled frustration.

They were back in his office. Thankfully, no one else had woken up. It would've been awkward. 

"What?" Skye said, in a small voice.

"If you thought something was wrong with me, why didn't you just come and tell me?" He looked hurt and frowny. "I thought we were past this."

Crap. Yeah, good question. 

"We haven't had a moment since we sent Ward to wherever and arrived here, and everything with Fitz...You started throwing yourself into work, immediately," she said, her voice raising a little. "Like you were trying to avoid us."

"I'm not handling that very well," he admitted. "A part of me is wondering why I said 'yes', to be honest."

Finally. A real conversation.

He walked over and took the bottle from her hand, went behind his desk to get two real glasses, and poured the contents of the mug into the glass and then slid a fresh glass over to her, poured it. They sat down.

"I've been avoiding you," he said. "Specifically."

"Oh, so you do care," she said sarcastically.

"The others, they're used to following orders," he continued, taking a drink. "But you aren't."

"Nope." She shrugged her shoulders. It was true.

"Do you think...that I'm just following orders?" he asked.

He was afraid she'd say 'yes'. He was so. Mph. She had to mentally bite down on a knuckle. This was why she was still here. I mean, other stuff, too.

"It depends, A.C.," she started, leaning towards him, resting her arms on her knees. Cocky. "Are you going to build it his way, or our way?"

He smirked. "*Our*?"

"Phil," she said, sipping her drink, "If there wasn't an *our*, you wouldn't be asking me this question."

He paused, looking at her. Considering something, probably.

"Okay," he said, getting up from the chair, walking around to the holodesk, "There's something I need you to take a look at," he said, glancing up at her.

She put down her drink, walked around to the table to stand beside him. 

"This is all of the data I found, and the cryptographic database here can't break it."

He had pulled up an image of the writing from the wall inside the storage room.

She touched the panel, bumping against him. He noticed, didn't seem to mind.

"If I hack Stark Industries' global monitoring system, I bet that I can get known and *unknown* star charts. He's all over that after the Battle of New York," she added.

"You think it's a star chart?" he asked, impressed.

"That was my first thought," she turned up to him, smiling. 

"You could always introduce us, you know," she started.

"No. Not happening," he said. "But..."


End file.
